


Redux

by flowersforgraves



Category: Extraction (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Mission Fic, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25772659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersforgraves/pseuds/flowersforgraves
Summary: This definitely feels familiar.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3
Collections: Battleship 2020, Battleship 2020 - Yellow Team





	Redux

**Author's Note:**

  * For [araydre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/araydre/gifts).



"This was definitely a bad idea," Victor says breathlessly.

"Just keep running," Mercy grits out, tossing a quick glance over his shoulder. They're both healed up -- as well as they can be, anyway; Victor's still stiff and sore around the bullet wound -- and Natalie's directing them over the radio.

She sounds like the kind of calm that means she's moved past stressed back around to the other side when she tells them, "You have two options. If you go left at this intersection you'll be moving further into the facility, but you can definitely get close to Martine's lieutenants and take your target out. If you go right, you'll be moving toward the exit."

Victor grunts with effort. "And what's your recommendation, Command?"

Natalie blows out a sigh, which is _not_ comforting in the slightest. "You know your position's already been made. Colonel Harding trusts your judgment on which is more important." She pauses briefly. "Putting aside personal preference, if you can hit the target and ensure you aren't captured, that's the ideal solution."

Mercy trades a glance with Victor as they slow to a walk at the intersection. "Understood. You'll hear from us. Satellite team out." He closes the connection, then sighs again. "Left or right?" he asks Victor.

Victor shrugs, nonchalance undermined by the flush on his face and the sweat that's beginning to stain the dark shirt under his tac vest. "Might as well go whole hog, right?"

"Might as well," Mercy agrees, baring his teeth in something that's not a grin. "Save a bullet for me, will you? I've got one with your name on it."

"'Course," Victor says agreeably, and they take off together down the left-hand corridor with the sound of booted footsteps echoing at their heels.

It's quiet for a few moments, nothing but the sound of their ragged breath and the pounding of booted feet on tile, before Mercy grabs at the back of Victor's shirt. He's not a tall man, and Victor can outpace him by sheer length of his legs, but Mercy's got more stamina. The echoes of their boots fade as they slow, only to be replaced by their pursuers, getting far too close for comfort.

“I’ll go in,” Mercy instructs. “Keep watch outside and hold them off if they get too close.”

Victor grits his teeth. “Are you sure you don’t want to do it the other way around?”

Mercy claps him on the shoulder and eyes the door distrustfully. “I’m sure,” he says lightly, and kicks in the door.

The room he enters is a dark concrete thing, brutalist in its simplicity. He barely has time to breathe before the room’s sole occupant turns to face him with a toothy smile.

“Hello again,” says Ivan Rudovsky.


End file.
